


Every Day

by Stonehill



Category: Naruto
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Wedding Planning, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24094834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stonehill/pseuds/Stonehill
Summary: “You’re home late,” she says, smile falling with real concern. “I hope it went well?”He tries not to wonder how long she’s been here. Naruto knows he’s made her wait before—too many times, for much too long—and he does his best not to dwell on lost chances and guilt, doe shis best to make up for it every chance he gets.“I— yeah!” He says, finding a smile for her. “It just took longer than I thought.”He can feel the fringes of embarrassment on the edges of his cheeks at the returning memory of how badly he’d handled it with Iruka-sensei and he fights it.
Relationships: Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 18
Kudos: 153





	Every Day

The red scarf hangs on its hook, the first thing that catches Naruto’s eye, as he pushes the door open. But no snowflakes follow him through the door in the summer night to make him regret not bringing it, and he smiles at its gentle reminder instead.

And it’s a smile that widens all the more at the sight of the lavender coat at its side, warm light braiding through the threads from the living room beyond the hall.

“I’m back.”

The words still ring oddly in his mouth, like a piece of hidden magic he thought he’d never figure out how to cast right.

Hinata’s voice floats back to him, a cack of sunshine to warm his skin. “Welcome home.”

He isn’t lucky enough yet that loneliness is just a memory every night, but soon he will be.

Hinata doesn’t get up to greet him, merely stays seated on a clean new couch overhung with blankets in faded shades of yellow and purple. She puts her book down beside a tea pot and two empty cups of tea, but her pale eyes remain on Naruto’s face, reading his features with an expert ability he never noticed her acquiring.

He does his best not to squirm.

“You’re home late,” she says, smile falling with real concern. “I hope it went well?”

He tries not to wonder how long she’s been here. Naruto knows he’s made her wait before—too many times, for much too long—and he does his best not to dwell on lost chances and guilt, doe shis best to make up for it every chance he gets.

“I— yeah!” He says, finding a smile for her. “It just took longer than I thought.”

He can feel the fringes of embarrassment on the edges of his cheeks at the returning memory of how badly he’d handledit with Iruka-sensei and he fights it. Naruto doesn’t embarrass easily; he’s done too many stupid things in his life, and is too used to being called an idiot. But something about Hinata has made it both excessively important not to look uncool and at the same time safe to acknowledge that a mistake is a mistake. And the result has been that the unfamiliar sensation of a blush burning his cheeks has become almost familiar.

Even if he has yet to learn how to handle such things with grace.

And Hinata handles everything with grace.

“I see,” she says. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No, no,” he says, and he’s across the room, his hand on her wrist, before he can really think to stop himself, to be gentle and careful. “I mean—“ he laughs, scratching the back of his neck. “Yes. You’re right. I haven’t had dinner yet. But no, you don’t have to go out of your way now. It’s late, and I’m not really hungry.”

The words fumble out of him, graceless and rushed. “Besides,” he mumbles, letting go her hand, and trying to calm down. “I’m sure you’ve had a long day already. And while I love your cooking, I don’t want you to go out of your way for me, when you must already be tired.”

“I see,” she says again. And then a smile blossoms on her face, followed soon by a laugh at his expense. It rings prettily in the silence around them, and Naruto—

Naruto holds his breath and listens, listens to her joy, a little more enamoured for every moment he spends in her company.

“Come,” she says, grasping his hand and intertwining their fingers as if it is the easiest thing in the world.

She tugs him down, so they settle comfortably side by side on the couch, and only lets go of him to pour tea for the both of them.

And in the silence that stretches between them, Naruto is the one who gets to watch her. His eyes trail along the midnight locks that fall from behind her ear, down over her shoulders, falling and falling like the tea from her pot. Her movements are fluid, confident and practiced, long pale fingers making the tea pot look weightless in her grasp.

It is in moments like these that Naruto remembers that she is a princess of a refined family, that she has been trained and trained with merciless strictness until she fitted a from that countless other women have fitted into before her.

It is in moments like these that he remembers that even if they are so unalike they are the same.

It’s in moments like these he hates his big mouth more than ever.

He wonders if he can help her wash off the mould that shaped her, wonders if it is true that his words have pulled her from the insanity of old-fashioned duties. He wonders if they can change the world enough that she will never have to listen to those demands again.

“So,” she says, finally, when the silence has stretched from comfortable, when he has begun to fidget a little. Because he wants to tell her, but he also doesn’t know how to get past his embarrassment or his pride.

Hinata’s eyes flutter open, catching his in a perceptive and vaguely amused gaze.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

And Naruto knows that Hiashi and the entire Hyuuga clan have lost a gem they didn’t ever recognise. For the eldest Hyuuga daughter has perfected her abilities beyond the Byakugan to see through not just objects, but emotions, as well.

He knows there’s no hiding from her.

“I—“

Naruto fumbles with his tea, feeling the uncomfortable heat of a belated blush crawling up the back of his throat.

Before it can colour his face entirely, he sets down his cup of tea and springs forwards, her name a drawn out whine on his lips.

“ _Hinataaaaaa._ ”

She gasps at the sudden movement right before his arms engulf her from behind, but doesn’t protest when he hides his burning face in the crook of her neck and shoulder.

“I handled it like such an idiot.”

Now that they are closer his confession falls to quiet tones, even if the fervour remains, and he rambles on from where she cannot see him.

“I wandered around for hours just trying to figure out how to get the words out, disturbed him during dinner—even if Iruka-sensei _clearly_ doesn’t know how to cook—and said a bunch of stuff I didn’t even mean when I got there because— because—“

Naruto’s face flares up, and he trembles with the embarrassment and fear of it. So he just clams his mouth shut—for once—and closes his eyes, holding on to her because Hinata is safe and Hinata understands.

Rejection is only a memory in his head now, but the fear remains in his bones, burns in his blood. Even if no one has hated him or called him a monster in years, even if he’s been accepted, acknowledged, even if he’s received so much love from so many people. It all feels so much more palpable, he feels so much more vulnerable now to loss, to insecurity, than he ever did.

And he still remembers those days of childhood, when all people saw in him were the monster that tore them from their loved ones.

Hinata doesn’t say anything immediately. She leans forwards to put her cup of tea down, trusting that he will simply follow her, and leans back just as carefully to their original position. She slides a free hand in-between his, gentle and careful as she begins to intrude, but strong in her hold on him when she’s got it.

And Naruto—

Naruto isn’t sure he’s deserving of her, doesn’t understand how she could’ve chosen him all those years ago and held on. But he is selfish, so selfish, and he clings to her with all he’s got. For seeing through him when no one else wanted to or could, for still seeing through him now and for understanding.

“And what did he say in the end?”

Naruto smiles briefly against her skin. He tilts his head so his cheek is resting on her shoulder to give himself a better vantage point, letting go of her with a single hand to pull her midnight locks away from her face. And even as he catches her curious eye, he isn’t embarrassed that his face is still burning with pink.

He just wants to see, too.

“He said he’d act as my father in the ceremony.”

And even if his vantage point isn’t the best, even if he is still hiding a little beyond the valley of her shoulder, he still gets to see clearly the sunrise of her smile. The way it brightens her face with unmistakable, unbridled and unhidden joy.

Happiness is a new sensation. He’s experienced it in sparks and moments before, brief and tingued with blue at the edges. But this burns bright and golden like a star, eternal like a star. Because it was something he could give to another. Because he’ll fight to ensure it’ll never be stolen from her again.

This time she isn’t so careful with him.

Hinata might not be blessed and cursed with a bijuu at her core, but she is faster than him on any given day. Her hair unfurls like a midnight blur on her tail as she lets go his hand to throw her arms around his neck.

“Oompf.”

The force of her affections catches him off guard, and throws them both, laughing, into the the back of the couch.

“Sounds like you got the words out in the end,” she says when they’ve calmed down, and kisses the whiskers of his cheek. “Well done, Naruto-kun.”

He wonders if he can selfishly bask in her praise, wonders if it’s ok to let the rest of the story lie unspoken. But he knows that Iruka isn’t entirely pleased with him, knows that he will undoubtedly make good on his threat to apologise to her for not raising Naruto correctly.

“Well,” he murmurs, and pushes her away as gently as he can, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding her gaze. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t put my foot in my mouth and say stuff about you I didn’t mean first. Sorry.”

Cool fingers brush gently under his chin and moves his face so he’s forced to meet her gaze. Naruto almost closes his eyes in childlike fear of the anger he expects to see there. But this isn’t Sakura, or Tsunade, or any of the other scary women he knows.

This is Hinata.

And that’s scarier.

But it’s also Hinata. And she simply tilts her head and smiles curiously at him, as if she expects nothing less of him. “What did you say?”

“I—“

He doesn’t know where it bubbles up from, that awkward laugh. It burns in his chest and across his cheeks and he straightens, moving away from her as it escapes him. “You know those movies about weddings where the male protagonist says he isn’t looking forwards to being tied down and just wants to have fun with his friends? Well—“

And the laughter dies suddenly in his throat, burns to ash only to be replaced by anger. Anger at himself for saying something so idiotic and foolish. Anger at himself for letting him speak those words again now. In front of her. Where she can hear.

Where he might hurt her.

“I said that,” he admits, bowing his head in a rushed motion of apology. “I said it as an excuse to get Iruka to come with me to Ichiraku’s. But I still said it.”

Above him Hinata exhales a breath that sounds almost like a sigh. “Naruto—“

“But,” he rushes to say, grasping her hands and leaning forwards, meeting her eyes, unseeing for the fear that wells up in him, “but I didn’t mean it. I swear. It’s a stupid thing to say. Why would you want to be get married, to be a _family,_ if you wouldn’t want to spend all your time with the person you’ve asked that of?!”

“It does seem rather entitled and disrespectful, doesn’t it?”

“Exactly!”

It’s only as he nods his agreement with fervour that he notices she isn’t angry, that she isn’t hurt. That she’s seen through him again and that she’d heard him, as he’d hoped she’d hear him.

Family—the kind of family full of love and warmth and understanding—is something they’ve only ever been able to dream about. Both of them. Of course she would know he wouldn’t take that for granted. Of course she would know he wouldn’t take her for granted.

He catches her eye, mirroring the smile that has already bloomed there, and before he knows it they’re both laughing, light hearted and forgiven, and maybe a little silly. And as they calm again, Naruto leans forwards and presses his forehead against hers.

“You are so wise and so strong,” he murmurs, smiling at the way she blinks at his compliments, smiling even more as a flush colours her cheeks. “Thank you, Hinata.”

“Silly,” she whispers, and he feels the breath of it against his lips. “You’re here, aren’t you? Every day.”

“Every day,” he promises, mirroring her, “just like you.”

Hinata’s smile is wobbly with watery happiness, but there is only surety in her grasp as she pulls him closer in a hug.

* * *

“Don’t be surprised if Iruka-sensei apologises to you for raising a terrible son.”

She laughs. “I won’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> NOBODY LOOK AT ME  
> KISHI WAS BEING A SAP FIRST


End file.
